


Transformed By You

by SpicyRedPaladin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Eating French Fries and Unburdening Your Past to a Near Stranger in a McDonalds at Midnight, Friends to Lovers, I dont actually know shit about tattoos, I love the gay boys so much, M/M, Moving On, Past Relationship(s), Past Shance, Self-Harm, Shiro (Voltron) - Freeform, spiritual transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15873258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyRedPaladin/pseuds/SpicyRedPaladin
Summary: Lance was broken, scarred in mind, body, and soul. When he finally found the strength to continue, the strength to pull himself together and make a new beginning, he decided there was no better way than to cover his shame with a tattoo. Guided by a friend's recommendation, he found himself at Marmora Ink, beguiled by the barest smile of his artist and the gentle way his rough hands touched Lance's scars. Through their blossoming romance, Lance found himself blooming as well, until he was transformed into a warrior who no longer needed his past or his pain to feel whole.And if he got a sweet, loving boyfriend along the way, Lance wasn't complaining.A Langst Palooza Fan Fiction





	Transformed By You

**Author's Note:**

> For the Langst Palooza Event, through which I was apparently adopted into the Langst Family. I hope reading this is as much of a roller coaster as writing it was.
> 
> Beta'd by Bay  
> ~Eli

Lance fidgeted a bit as he waited for the tattoo artist. The sleeve of his faded hoodie tickled the back of his hands. He’d had it for so long, and he was still thankful for how long the sleeves were. It had been a present from an ex, much broader than him. And though they’d gone their separate ways long ago, he’d been too petty and heart-broken to give back the jacket. It was his only tether to that old life, after all. His last tie to the sunny days he spent in Miami, loving and laughing and doing the exact opposite of what he’d been doing since ninth grade when he’d moved to dismal, deteriorating Detroit.

The young man looked up with a start when he heard someone clear their throat. A tall man, thick with corded muscles and marked with pale scars across his warm, dark skin, was watching him while running the end of a snowy braid through his fingers. Lance blushed under the gaze, suddenly having the distinct sensation he was in one of those dreams where he forgot to wear clothes. The Cuban stumbled to his feet, hurrying over to the man.

The artist lead him into one of the work rooms quietly, the only sound being their shoes on the floor and the sound of a tattoo machine. As they passed an open door, Lance saw his friend Keith (another ex, but at least they both agreed to breakup) working on a rose themed sleeve for a nice looking man with a bandana in his hair. He vaguely remembered the man as the drummer of Keith’s grindcore band. Hunk, maybe?

Lance pulled himself out of his little reverie and realized he was sitting now, blushing again at the man clearing his throat once more. He stammered out a clipped ‘sorry’, fidgeting with his sleeve again. The man gave him the smallest hint of a smile, and Lance couldn’t help but blush again. This man had a nice smile, even though it seemed like he didn’t use it much. When the man spoke, it was with a deep voice that soothed Lance’s worried mind.

“My name is Kolivan. First, I’d like to thank you for coming in. Keith told me you’re interested in getting a tattoo to cover some scars, but he didn’t tell me much else. So today we’re going to map out the area and talk about design.”

Lance nodded, taking a fortifying breath before slowly pulling up the loose sleeve of his hoodie. He’d been careful with his arm, had been trying so hard to get them healed so he could cover them. So he could cover his shame. And yet, after two years of forced strength that Lance didn’t even know he possessed, here he was, showing his secret weakness to a man he’d met barely a minute earlier. Kolivan gently took his arm, laying a thin piece of paper over it before lightly tracing the scars. When he was done, he lifted the paper away and set it on an clipboard, placing a sheet of tracing paper over the top of it.

“Tell me about yourself, Lance. And I’ll design the tattoo from what you tell me. Does that sound fine to you?”

Lance nodded, fixing his sleeve. “What, uhm… what kind of stuff do you wanna know..?”

“Interests. Hobbies. Dreams. Fears. Anything you want. I feel like this is a good time to mention that anything said in this room stays in it.”

Another nod, followed by a deep breath. And then, Lance spoke.

“I uh, well, I love the beach… I lived in Miami and… I’ve honestly been missing it… My friends and I used to, uh.. We used to sit on the beach and play truth or dare and one time they dared me to pour some fries on my chest and let a gull eat them off…”

Lance looked up at Kolivan, worried he was oversharing. The man simply give him another of those barely there smiles and urged him to continue. And so Lance did.

“I… I like space, too… When I was little, I thought that one day I would be an astronaut and go to far away stars and meet all sorts of aliens…”

“Why didn’t you pursue it, Lance?”

“I was trying… I was studying hard. And then…” A soft whimper. “Th-then the accident… My parents… Th-there was a gas leak and… And I should be gone, not them…”

Kolivan set down his clipboard and reached out, taking Lance’s hands in his own. He didn’t flinch when a tear fell from Lance’s cheek onto their clasped hands, only moved a bit closer.

“Lance, your living wasn’t a mistake. You are here for a reason, and your fight shows your strength. You are here, and, forgive me if this is out of line, but I am sure that your parents are proud of you for winning.”

The man turned Lance’s arm over gently, touching Lance’s sleeve for permission. At the small nod he received, Kolivan carefully lifted the fabric until all of the scars beneath were bare. Then, gently, tenderly, and oh so softly, he began to trace the thin lines, some shallow and some deep. Lance gulped, letting him touch each scar. Finally, without lifting his head, Kolivan spoke.

“These scars tell me a story about a boy who thought pain was the only way he could feel. Of a young man who decided enough was enough. Of an adult who took his life back into his own hands. Lance, you are stronger than you believe. And these are proof.”

Lance stared at his scars, tears beginning to dry on his cheeks. Kolivan slowly rolled down the sleeve, tilting Lance’s chin and giving him an actual smile.

“You are a warrior, Lance. And I am proud to have you here.”

The man picked up his clipboard, showing Lance what he had drawn. It was a silhouette climbing a ladder, sand and waves beneath him and stars above him. Lance choked and nodded, knowing more tears would fall if he tried to speak. Kolivan talked Lance through the pricing, and the young man honestly felt like the estimate he was given was lower than what Keith had alluded to, but he nodded and agreed.

Kolivan walked Lance to the door. By now, Keith and his client, it was Hunk after all, were standing in the small waiting area, talking about food. Keith waved and Lance gave them a smile. At the door, Kolivan handed Lance a business card.

“In case you need someone. I'm always available, unless I'm with a client.”

Lance nodded, smiling as he accepted the card and assured Kolivan that he would call if he needed something. As Lance walked away, he looked back at Marmora Ink, the violet neon sign flickering just a bit. He took a deep breath and headed home, rubbing his fingers over the card he'd been given.

\-------

Lance stared at the razor in his hand, trembling as tears washed down his cheeks. He couldn't put it down, but he couldn't bring it to his wrist. Kolivan had called him strong. Kolivan had called him a warrior. If he did this, he couldn't get his tattoo and he'd disappoint someone again. Finally, he picked up his phone and pressed the call button, selecting the contact he'd made for Kolivan.

The phone rang once. Lance was proud of himself.

The phone rang twice. But what if Kolivan was busy?

The phone rang thrice. He should hang up.

The fourth ring cut off and he heard Kolivan’s voice on the other side.

“Kolivan speaking. How can I help you?”

“K-Kolivan…? I-is this a good time..?”

“Is this Lance?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Then yes, it’s a good time. Did something happen?”

“I… I wanted to… I tried to… But I didn’t.”

“Lance, I’m proud of you. Do you need someone there with you?”

The young Cuban was quiet for a moment. Did he need Kolivan there? “Y-yeah… Please…”

“Alright, what’s your address? I can be across this city in less than ten minutes if I need to be.”

Lance slowly began the journey to the apartment door. “A-apartment 202… S-Shady Oak…”

He heard a chuckle from Kolivan as he unlocked the door, razor still in his hand. “Lance, can you step out onto the walkway?”

Lance did so, letting Kolivan know he was. He stopped mid-sentence, smiling as he looked down at the parking lot. Kolivan stood below, leaning against a sleek, black motorbike.

Lance laughed softly and hung up as Kolivan called up to him.   
  
"Come on down, neighbor! You're lucky I live right down stairs from you, huh?”   
  
Shaking his head, Lance locked the door and hurried down to Kolivan, leaving the razor behind. Kolivan removed his leather jacket and held out a helmet to Lance expectantly. The young man gulped.   
  
"W-wait, what?"   
  
"We're going to cheer you up."   
  
Kolivan moved closer and helped Lance into the jacket and helmet. "Wait here, I have a spare inside."   
  
Barely five minutes later, Lance was situated on the back of Kolivan's motorbike, arms wrapped tightly around the man as they sped around Detroit. Lance wrinkled his nose at the sour stench of the river, but once they were away he let himself relax a bit. This was actually pretty fun. The only other time he’d been on a motorbike was in Miami with-

Lance shook his head to clear his thoughts, pressing tighter against Kolivan. He would  _ not _ think of him again! Not when he’d done so well stopping himself. He couldn’t betray the strength that Kolivan had given him. The strength that Kolivan said had been in Lance the whole time.

Soon, they pulled into a parking lot. Lance pulled off the helmet, shaking out his curls. He looked at the building they’d come up to. McDonalds. Kolivan gave Lance a little smile before leading the young man inside. The pair sidled up to the counter, made an order, and Kolivan insisted on paying. Lance blushed softly, having never had someone pay for him.

After that and with greasy food in hand, the pair slid into a booth, facing one another. Lance picked at his food until Kolivan urged him to eat. After a couple bites, Lance was already feeling better. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence and eating, Kolivan leaned back on his side of the booth. He eyed Lance intensely and the young man flinched a bit, the golden eyes unnerving him.

“Lance, you don’t have to tell me anything about what happened tonight if you don’t want to. But I want you to know that I want to help you, however you need me to. If that means listening, then I will listen. If it means holding your hand and telling you you’re pretty, I’ll do that, too.”

Lance let out a laugh, wincing when it sounded more forced than he meant.

“O-okay, uhm… I was… Okay, before I say this, I’m not some silly high school girl or something. I know I need to get over it and stuff but it’s just… It’s so hard…”

Kolivan nodded, bringing a fry to his mouth and chewing on the end. Lance continued.

“When I was a sevie, a seventh grader, I met this guy. He was a junior and way out of my league but I was friends with one of his other friends and ended up hanging out with him a lot and then started crushing pretty hard… He was just so cool, y’know? He was, like, my idol…”

Kolivan sat forward, reaching out and taking Lance’s hand gently to help support him. After a deep breath, Lance went on.

“I, uhm.. I asked him out when he was a senior… on Valentine's Day… I’m pretty sure it was the most romantic thing I've ever done. I got him flowers and snuck over to the High School during his lunch… He liked it. And uhm, we were doing pretty well…”

Lance fidgeted with Kolivan’s hand, playing with the man’s fingers to keep himself grounded.

“My freshman year I uh… I went to Orlando with my mom and dad. They have this place called the Orlando Science Center; we were going to check out the planetarium. But there was a, uh… a gas leak in our hotel. I-I remember the explosion a-and my mom pushing me into the hallway…”

Kolivan moved, now, to sit beside Lance, wrapping an arm around him gently and stroking the young man's shoulder. He spoke softly, as though trying to calm a terrified kitten.

“You don't have to keep going if it hurts too much, Lance. Sharing is important, but it doesn't help if it hurts you past the healing you've done.”

Lance nodded, closing his eyes and leaning against Kolivan as cold tears fell down his flushed face. He trembled like a leaf caught in a gale in the large man's grasp, fragile and breaking more with every fresh memory. Kolivan gently wiped Lance’s tears away, marvelling at the man. Lance may not believe him, but Kolivan knew that this young man was strong. He was a champion in the weathered man’s weary eyes, someone worthy of both love and praise.

The younger man took a stuttering breath before opening his eyes and looking up at Kolivan. “Shiro left me after the accident… H-he said that.. that I wasn’t the same Lance anymore… that my baggage was too heavy… And two days later he was with  _ Adam _ , of all people. I gave him everything! My first kiss, my first love, my.. my virginity… Everything! And he left me when I needed him the most!”

Kolivan brought Lance into his lap, stroking his hair slowly and sighing softly. It wasn’t Lance’s fault that he’d been brought to this place in his life. He was like a leaf cast adrift across the vast ocean. A single speck of stardust lost in the expanse of the cosmos. The large man wiped Lance’s tears away gently, holding him close and sighing softly as he chose his words.

“Lance, I know that must have hurt you so much for it to bring you to a place where you believe that harming yourself is the only way to feel whole again… I won’t pretend to know your pain, because I honestly don’t. I’ve never wanted to be someone’s sunrise and sunset or the reason that they smile. But I want to be a person who you can trust and who can help you.”

They sat there quietly for a few more minutes until Kolivan carefully helped Lance up and led him back outside, getting the helmet back on Lance’s head before guiding him onto the bitch seat of his motorbike.

\-----------------------------

Lance couldn't say he was disappointed by the frequency with which he saw Kolivan after that night. The man seemed to turn up at his door like clockwork that was trying so hard to go against nature. Meaning that, whether he was a little early or a little late, the man always visited right around midnight. It was honestly cute, in Lance's mind. Kolivan was trying so hard to make sure he was okay without  _ actually _ looking like he was keeping a watch. It was endearing.

After about the fifth or sixth midnight visit, Lance took the step he'd been debating over with nearly every waking hour. He invited Kolivan into his tiny apartment, citing that he didn’t want Kolivan to waste money taking him to McDonald’s at midnight twice a week. Kolivan had assured him that it wasn’t a waste and that he enjoyed their outings, but he accepted the invitation nonetheless. Apparently the offer of leftover chicken nuggets and wine coolers was too good of an offer for the man to pass up.

It wasn't too awful long before their nights in became a regular occurrence, whether they took place on Lance's couch with video games and Seagrams or in Kolivan’s living room with white zinfandel and old records. It was the latter setting (and with two glasses of wine under his belt) where Lance found the courage to take another step. A step that brought him close enough to kiss the man, who had been watching Lance dance to Hotel California with a bemused smile. And, oh boy, did Lance kiss him. The two love-birds kissed and kissed on Kolivan's couch until Lance was light-headed. (Kolivan was light-headed, too, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that out loud.)

While Lance enjoyed his time alone with Kolivan from then on, read: every single evening  _ and _ night seeing as they had taken to spending the nights in one another’s beds, he also enjoyed spending time at Kolivan’s tattoo shop. He already knew Keith from high school, but there was also Keith’s mother, Krolia, a bombshell in combat boots who took no ones shit; Antok, a large man and Kolivan’s brother who always found something to tease the more stoic of the two; and Thace and Ulaz, a pair who seemed to be attached at the hip unless Ulaz was working on a client or Thace was taking down a new client’s information. (Lance was pretty sure Thace and Ulaz were  _ actually  _ conjoined the first few times he’d met them.) Aside from the employees, he also met several of the regulars. First was Hunk, Keith’s boyfriend from a different high school (and soon to be fiance, Keith was just waiting for the right time to ask), and there was also Regris, Ulaz’s nephew who honestly seemed more related to Antok with the way they laughed together.

Lance honestly had to admit that he felt quite at home in the ever-buzzing atmosphere of the little tattoo shop. It reminded him of home before his siblings went off to college, back when there was always someone to talk to and laugh with. If any of the others caught Lance tearing up from nostalgia, though, he was quick to blame it on the thin haze of the rose incense Thace usually had burning.

Freckled throughout his frequent stops at Marmora Ink, Lance’s tattoo slowly but surely came into being. It was calming to the young man, having someone he cared for and trusted slowly turning his pain into something beautiful. The more he thought about it and the more he looked at the slowly growing lines of ink on his arm, the happier he became. His tattoo, after all, was so much like him. It has begun as a mess of scars and then, through Kolivan’s time and patience, was becoming something to be proud of. Through Kolivan’s care, Lance was beginning to love both his arm and himself.

And, possibly, he could be starting to love Kolivan as well.

It was little things his boyfriend did that brought these feelings to Lance’s mind. The way he laughed at Lance’s jokes. The way he smiled when he thought Lance wasn’t watching. The way he sang when they were halfway through a bottle of wine. The way his fingers carded through Lance’s hair when they curled up in one another’s arms to sleep at night. And the way he truly seemed to feel genuine emotion for Lance.

Lance truly had to admit that maybe Kolivan was worth giving love a second chance. He was certainly different from Shiro. Kolivan took him on dates and brought him flowers and sent him sweet texts. Shiro had… not done those things. Most of Lance’s relationship with Shiro could be summarized with the phrase ‘one-sided secret relationship’. And then the accident had come, and Shiro had gone away to Adam. Kolivan, though, was very open about his adoration for Lance. He wasn’t afraid to share kisses and drinks in public, didn’t shy away from holding hands, and was always quick to place a protective arm around the younger man.

It was after a date that included all those things that Lance found himself ready for another step in his relationship with Kolivan. He’d thought about it so long and he was finally ready to say that word to someone again. He was finally ready to bare his heart as a rabbit to the wolf that was Kolivan. He was ready to tell Kolivan that he loved him.

Lance smiled up at Kolivan as the two paused at the stairs that separated the floors of their apartment building. Lance set a foot on the first step before gasping in realization and looking at Kolivan with wide eyes, his eyebrows knit with worry as he spoke. “Oh my god, Koli, I just realized I forgot to lock my door before I left.”

It was, of course, a ruse to bring Kolivan up to his apartment, where he planned on fully unburdening his love and adoration to the man. Kolivan set a hand to Lance’s back, leaning in and kissing his forehead gently.

“I’ll walk you up. I don’t need my boyfriend getting murdered tonight.”

Lance giggled at that, letting Kolivan lead the way. He watched with silent adoration the sway of his handsome protector’s silver braid and the shift of Kolivan’s jeans over his finely sculpted backside. He was brought out of his admiration, however, when Kolivan turned the doorknob and  _ it actually clicked open _ . The door wasn’t supposed to be locked. Lance was supposed to apologize, confess his love, and then they were supposed to make out till midnight. Not  _ this. _

Kolivan, stepped inside, followed closely by Lance, who was now half terrified. Okay, more than half. He was extremely terrified. He’d always been so good about locking his door, and now he’d happened to forget. It was enough to start him shaking. It was like hell had come forth to fuck with Lance when he was trying to actually get his life together for once. However, it was when the rounded they little wall that separated the entryway from the living room that hell truly broke loose in the small apartment.

Lance poked his head around the corner of the archway as Kolivan blocked it with his body, a possessive growl coming from the older man when they saw the young man sitting on the couch. For a moment, Lance considering being a reptile, as his blood ran cold and seemed to stop in his very veins. The man in his living room was unmistakable. Sure, his hair was white now instead of black, and there was a huge scar across his nose, and one of his arms happened to be missing, but there was no way in  _ any _ hell that this could be someone other than Takashi Shirogane. Lance cried out as though he’d been burned, hiding behind the entry wall and gripping his hair tightly.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened in the next few minutes, everything was a bit of a blur. He remembered some yelling and being picked up, and that must have, ultimately, led to the situation in which he now found himself. Lance huddled close to Kolivan (really he was in the man’s lap but he didn’t actually want to admit that) while Shiro sat across from them, looking like they’d just kicked his puppy. Lance could tell Kolivan was angry, could feel it radiating from him even if the man’s face was unreadable.

Finally, Shiro spoke. His voice wasn’t loud like Lance remembered, didn’t hold that reckless abandon and devil-may-care attitude that had first drawn Lance to the man. Rather, it was curt, tempered, and maybe even a bit dry. No matter what it was, it didn’t match his words.

“Lance, I know you probably don’t want to see me. I realize that I hurt you, and I had no right to do that to you. You were raw from… from what happened, and you were hurt and afraid. And I all I did was make it worse. I know that what I did was wrong, and I came here hoping that you’d forgive me… Hoping that maybe we could try again. I know that you don’t have any evidence, but I’ve changed. I’m not the selfish boy I used to be. Adam changed me, and the army straightened out the rest.”

Lance bristled at the name, at the reminder of what they’d had and what he’d thrown away, at the  _ gall _ Shiro had to enter  _ Lance’s home _ and ask for forgiveness and a second chance. Lance’s decision was made. His life no longer revolved around Takashi Shirogane. His life belonged to himself and to the future he wanted with Kolivan, and no dressed up words could change that. Lance steeled himself, pulling away from Kolivan and standing, firm and sure in his words.

“Shiro, get out of my house. Get out of my life. You say you’re not selfish but you  _ broke into my home _ for the off chance that I would take you back. You say you’ve changed, well so have I. I’m not an attention starved teenager anymore. I don’t worship the ground you walk on. And I don’t need you to feel whole anymore. I’ve moved on, and Kolivan has helped me more than you can even imagine. I love him, and there is nothing that could make me give him up to go back to you. So, please, save yourself the trouble and just get out.”

Silence.

It hung over the three like oil over water, thick and choking until, finally, it broke. Kolivan shifted forward, wrapping his arms around Lance from behind and pressing his face against the small of the younger’s back. Emotions flickers over Shiro’s face, from shock to anger to disappointment. The man stood, his eyes cold now as they settled on Lance. Neither of them spoke another word as Shiro took his leave, the door slamming shut behind him.

The tension broke as soon as the door was shut. Lance fell back into Kolivan’s lap, the strong arms around him holding tighter as his love hushed him, wiping away the tears that just barely began to fall. Lance whimpered softly, pressing his face into Kolivan’s neck as strong hands worked over his back and through his hair. When he was finally calm, Kolivan whispered softly in Lance’s ear, his breath sending shivers through Lance’s core.

“I love you too, starlight.”

Lance smiled softly before turning over his arm and looking down at his arm. The only thing left unfilled was the moon. He looked back at Kolivan, who nodded, knowing what Lance was going to ask without any spoken words. They picked themselves up, making sure to lock the door as they left the apartment, before climbing back onto Kolivan’s motorcycle. Thace and Ulaz were just about to close up when the pair arrived, and Ulaz smiled knowingly as Kolivan and Lance moved past them with only a short greeting to go to their usual room.

It was second nature for both of them to set up the room together, Kolivan finding the inks he needed while Lance set up the machinery. It wasn’t long before the thrum Lance had begun to find so comforting was painting him once more, filling in the final piece, covering the last of the scars with moonrock and ink. Kolivan’s steady hands finally brought forth Lance’s transformation. When it was finished, they shared another kiss, their lips no longer timid as they’d once been. They were sure now, after all, that this is what both wanted, and that this was the way it should be.


End file.
